Confederate Memory
by Inky-Paws
Summary: The gathering clouds are what signaled the storm. She was the harbinger of the hurricane that would rip through his life and destroy any hope of normalcy that he once had. The rain poured down, washing away dozens of buckets of blood, and what remained of the hope of her living with it. Regret. Alfred only felt regret. Companion to Confederate. Rated T for swearing and blood.


Ok. So, pre-warning. This is a sequel/companion story-thing to Confederate. I'd seriously recommend reading that first. You don't have to, (no one's forcing you) however, there are some things that are probably explained better there than in here. I wrote this to express Alfred's memories of Evie, and how their relationship evolved from inseparable siblings to bitter enemies. Fun, amirite or amirite? *sighs* I'm feeling particularly sadistic today. You have been warned. Muahaha. *laughs maliciously* Aaaand I just did a creepy laugh and now my dog is staring at me weirdly. Help me. *shrinks away* Anyway, I hope you like this! Enjoy!

* * *

 **Confederate Memory**

* * *

1812-1815?

Alfred wandered through the emerald-green fields after the battle. It was aimless wandering, wandering with no real purpose, but Alfred took great joy in the freedom of it, even though his country was at war with Britain.

Again.

The Second War of Independence, his people called it. That name would probably change in the future, Alfred knew. Just from doing a brief study of history, you could easily tell that most war titles changed after awhile.

Alfred called it the War of Annoying Circumstances.

His people had just really began to enjoy their freedom, and develop their own sense of style. Although his country had been around for about 30-40 years now, it had taken a while for the current government to completely start and for people to form a style that was theirs.

The war had taken the already annoying circumstances and made them even more annoying.

Sighing as he wandered the fields, he thought back to the battle. It was the second war where he had faced off with Arthur. The battle had ended in a stalemate, both sides had backed off in the end. Troops were ordered to assemble, collect weapons, and dead, but in the fray, Alfred had slipped off to a different field for some peace and quiet and to think. His bosses would give him hell for it later, he knew, but at the present moment, he didn't really care.

Wandering down to a nearby stream, he stopped abruptly. Was that a little girl? Stepping forward with purpose, and nervousness, Alfred looked at her, confused. She faced away from him, she didn't seem to have noticed him yet. Who was she?

She tuned around sharply to face him, and he yelped. She was clearly confused at the male presence in front of her, that had disturbed her peace.

Alfred could see her more clearly now, as if she had been put in high-definition. She was a little girl, looking barely 4, gap toothed, her eyes were a smoky grey-blue flecked with gold in some areas, her hair was a bright, curling blonde cascading past her shoulders, the same shade as his, she had pale skin, and was wearing a gray-blue cotton dress the same shade as her eyes, trimmed in a pale navy with golden buttons. She was barefoot, having kicked her shoes off nearby, and held a bitten apple in her small hands. Freckles dotted her nose, and it was then that Alfred realized with a shock that she looked like a female version of him.

He realized exactly who she was.

Getting to his knees to be on eye level with her, he met her eyes with her own. Words tumbled out of his mouth before he knew it.

"Who are you?"

She blinked at him, slowly, as if waking up out of a dream, and words poured out of her mouth.

"I'm the American South."

The gathering clouds signaled the start of a storm.

* * *

1820-1825?

"Evie? Where are you? Come out, come out, come out, wherever you are!" Alfred practically sang in a singsong voice he specially reserved for Evie. He'd never use this voice around anyone but her, not even other children.

He heard a faint giggling behind a tree. Following the sound, he paused, then jerked suddenly to look behind it. No Evie.

He heard giggles of enthusiasm from above him.

Looking up, he saw Evie dangling from a tree branch, swinging back and forth above him, giggling like a maniac.

Putting his hands on his hips, he grinned his signature devilish grin at her and she only giggled harder. "Now, what are you odin up there missy?"

She laughed, and he held his arms out as she dropped down, into them, totally trusting of him.

Her big brother.

"Let's play another round!" She giggled happily as she wriggled out of his grasp. She was always giggling about something, someone. She had grown into a lovely little lady since the time when Alfred first meet her, she now looked about six, compared to the way she had looked when he had first met her.

A smile traced his lips. She loved hide and seek, but he always found her fairly quickly. She'd hide in intriguing places, places where you'd never guess someone could hide, but she was constantly laughing about something, so he could always track her down relatively quickly. He made a mock gesture towards his pocket watch.

"I don't know, Evie. It's getting late." She gave him a pouty face. "Late sucks." Yawning, she held her arms out to him as he scooped her up again, and she promptly fell asleep on his chest, sleeping happily.

The sun crossed the sky, painting it shades of purple, pink, yellow, and orange, touching and finger painting her face with rosy fingers.

Alfred turned around. They should be heading home. It was late.

* * *

1830-1835?

Alfred wandered the emerald field where he once met Evie, all those years ago. By nation's standards, it wasn't really all that much time, but when Alfred was with Evie, as he normally was these days, time seemed to stretch out in an endless loop of happiness. Many things had changed since then, but this field still hadn't seemed to change whatsoever. It still was the same shade of pristine emerald green, the river that wound through the gully here still unpolluted, area still undeveloped.

"Evie? Where are you?" He called out. Evie wasn't at their house this morning, so Alfred had been wandering around, looking for her. He wasn't worried, per say, he was just wondering where she had gone off to.

Wandering over to the river, he was greeted with the sight of a familiar blonde head.

"What are we doing here?" He asked curiously. She looked up with a start, her hair tumbling in her eyes. A finished flower crown made of pink and purple flowers lay in her lap and another identical to the one in her lap adorned her head.

Scrambling up, she faced Alfred, the flower crown in her hands. A smile lit her face. "Kneel down."

He knelt down in from of her and she lightly placed the flower crown in his hair. Upon hearing her giggle, Alfred looked up. She was giggling him and pointing at the crown in his hair. The dress she was wearing was similar to the dress she was wearing when he met her, just a different style. In that moment, she almost looked four again, not her age of eight.

"I crowned you." Alfred started laughing and scooped her up and spun her around.

She just kept laughing.

* * *

1840-1845?

Alfred ran to the American World Meeting hall, trying to hurry up. Evie ran beside him, her pace perfectly matching his. They were trying to hurry up, Alfred was hosting this meeting and he'd be late if he didn't hurry up.

Alfred suddenly froze in place. "Oh shit." Evie stopped beside him and looked up at him questioningly. Alfred mentally prepared himself for some quick and sassy reply. Even at ten years old, she was able to inject a severe overdose of sarcasm in every word she spoke. Much to his surprise, she simply asked, "What is it this time?"

"My portfolio," Alfred muttered. "I forgot it at home. I need to get it." Mischief alit in her eyes. "Oh, you mean this?" She tossed a pale portfolio at him and he caught it out of instinct. "What..."

"You left it at home. I saw it and I was wondering how long it would take of you to notice it." She managed to eject every syllable of her sentence with a level of sarcasm and wit that would kill a man.

She shoved him forward towards the meeting hall. "Go. I'm going to go and make myself scarce, and preferably screw with someone's head." She walked off and Alfred was left staring at the place she once was before he started laughing, all the way into the meeting hall.

* * *

1850-1855?

Evie delivered a sharp slap to Alfred's cheek and glared up at Alfred. At twelve years old, she was starting to get more involved in the politics of our country, leading to their current debate.

Slavery.

That and state's rights.

Things were starting to get tricky between the North and the South, and Alfred and Evie were brought right into the whirlwind of it.

"Evie," Alfred started, and Evie shoved at him, causing him to stumble backwards, and stomped away, whisper-yelling profanities to herself. This debate in particular between the two of them had been especially bad, and Alfred had really pissed Evie off.

Reaching his hand to his face where she had slapped him minutes earlier, Alfred felt the trace of a hand-shaped imprint start to form over him right cheek, and tears pricked at the back of his eyes. He refused to let them fall.

 _"What happened between us? When did our relationship go so wrong?"_

* * *

1861-1862?

Over the cries of the battle, Alfred searched for a familiar 13-year-old blonde head that he had the feeling that he would see in this battle. Stabbing casually to the right, he impaled a Confederate soldier with his bayonet as he looked for Evie.

 _"Is she here?"_

Suddenly, Alfred raised his hand to his chest and felt a small hole, a pinprick of blood that had already started to increase in quantity and size. Spinning around, he was met with a familiar smirking face, pointing her still-smoking rifle at him.

Evie.

"Gotcha, ya bastard." Alfred looked at her stunned, for a moment, before she lunged at him, and he had to fight her to defend himself. A blow to the left. Parry to the right. Stab upwards, catch her blade midair. Saying something rather unprintable, Evie yanked a second blade out of her belt and blocked Alfred's strike with both blades. The wound on his chest was slowly healing, but multiple other blows, wounds, and injuries that he had sustained slowed down the healing process, and slowed him down. Slicing downwards, Evie tried to make a slash against his stomach, but was stopped abruptly.

Alfred gripped her wrist firmly, stopping her mid-blow, glaring down at her. Some other soldiers around them had slowed their fighting, and some had stopped completely to watch the pair fight. They were mesmerizing, each blow that one delivered was met with a conflicting blow that would hit the other or simply stop the blade, and the process continued. Alfred gripped her wrist tighter and spat. Evie flinched at the sudden movement, then tried to swipe upwards with her other hand.

Alfred used his bayonet to swiftly slap away the other blade and disarm Evie, who paused mid-blow in shock. Spitting sideways, she suddenly lunged at him, yanking a third blade from her boot. Yelling, Alfred lunged at her as well, but felt the wound to his chest gape from blood loss and slow him down. Taking advantage of this, Evie advanced with a yell, and came at him with her blade. Alfred met this with a swift kick.

They both screamed.

* * *

May 13, 1865

The clouds shivered in anticipation of an incoming storm.

Evie groaned and glared up at Alfred, gasping in pain with each breath. In their battle, she had sustained quite a few blows to the chest, making it hard for her to breathe. Even though she was beaten, she accepted no help.

"You're an asshole."

Alfred ignored this and continued to supervise a younger solider who was trying to take Evelyn's weapons.

Evie continued to glare at Alfred as he ignored her. She winced, then smothered it with another poisonous glare as the soldier harshly pulled the rifle hanging on her bleeding shoulder and the daggers in her belt off. "Fucking asshole. I'll kill you all, do you understand me?"

Alfred continued to ignore her, hiding the cringe on his face as he heard his little sister's voice.

Evie's voice rose to a shrill yell. "Fucker! Don't- Oww!" She shrieked. "Alfred, you sick little fuck, I swear to god, the Confederacy will rise again. I hate you, with every ounce, every fiber of my being, do you understand me? I will kill you, and leave you to bleed out, and leave you for the vultures to peck out your guts!"

"Ev. Stop thrashing now." Alfred's voice was rough from spending most of the past few days yelling. Evie continued to thrash. "Evie, you've lost. Drop your weapons and surrender now."

Evelyn stopped thrashing for a minute to deck Alfred with a glare that would kill a man. "Oh really? Really? Really?" She delivered a swift kick to the soldier trying to wrestle away her weapons. Alfred froze with shock.

The storm continued to brew.

Stumbling forward, Evie yanked Alfred's bayonet and pointed it at her chest. "Go ahead."

Alfred only blinked in confusion. The soldiers around him braced, ready to shoot to kill.

"Goddammit, are you stupid in the head as well as being a hypocritical asshat? Go ahead." Evie dared him. Alfred tried to pull away from her, but her grip was too tight. She had no intention of letting go anytime soon.

Alfred attempted to yank at the gun harder, but no luck. "See?" Evie's voice rose from a yell, to a scream, to a shriek. "You're too weak! You could kill me, either shoot me, or stab me, right now, but you're too weak to do anything, too unwilling. Do you see this, _dear brother_?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "This is why the South, my precious Confederacy will win, even if we are beaten right now. We will rise again, I promise you this. This is exactly why we are better than you."

Evie continued on. "We have the will to fight on, to make the needed sacrifices. We have the will to kill who needs to die, and we don't show _mercy_." Alfred's hands shook, and trembled over the trigger, but Evie continued on, not seeming to notice. "This is why we will win! You're worthless, useless, stupid, and a hypocrite. So you see? Do you see me now, Alfred!"

Alfred just stood there and shook, trembling. Evie shoot him a disgusted look. Despite her small stature, she looked sixteen instead of her actual age, fourteen.

"Do you really need me to put this into perspective for you?"

Evie spat on the ground as she spun around and grabbed the young solider on the ground, the one who tried to take her weapons earlier, and spun around, to face Alfred, holding a knife to his throat. He was trembling now, and so was her hand. Alfred could see a look of doubt in her face, and how shaky her hand was. She continued yelling and waving the knife.

"I'm holding a knife to one of your precious people's throats, _and you stand there and blink_? What the fuck Alfred?" She screamed at him. The boy couldn't have been thirteen. Evie wove the knife around, trying to disguise how badly her hand was shaking now. She plunged the knife towards his throat.

"Help..."

Hearing the boy's cry for help awakened Alfred. With an enraged scream, he lunged forward, and pulled the trigger and stabbed her with the bayonet at the same time. She released the boy, who stumbled away, and dropped to the ground like a hot stone, already dead. Blood spurted from her wounds, and her eyes had already seemed to cloud over, her hair coming unbound and loose, flying as she dropped, like symbolism of her fleeting soul, the thing that made her _Evie_.

Alfred could only collapse to the ground like her, pull her lifeless body close, bury his head in her shoulder, crying, and scream and scream and scream in regret and sadness. He pulled her lifeless body closer, and wept, and screamed.

The rain poured down, washing away buckets and buckets of blood, and what remained of the hope of Evie living with it.

 _Regret._

Alfred could only feel regret.

* * *

A/N: So, for these memories, I didn't want to give any official dates, because I've found in the past that that can screw memories up, so I gave really rough dates of about when these memories took place. Sorry if this bothers you. Also, contrary to what Evie said in Confederate, she did do a little more than just scream profanities and threats at Alfred, she physically threatened to kill an innocent solider, and he couldn't let that stand. I'm so sorry if I led you on to believe that this would be completely fluffy memories. *looking at my friend who begged me for some fluff concerning Evie, you know who you are* You, my friend, should know that every fluffy thing I write normally ends in death. That is, unfortunately, how I roll. And it doesn't help that two of my favorite book characters in the Dark Artifices died. I actually cried, you guys. I cried. Really, really hard. *cries again* Anyway, I hope you liked this! Ciao!

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Confederate States of America:

Name: Evelyn Ivy Jones

Hair Color: Blonde

Eye Color: Gray-Blue

Skin Color: Fair

Age: 14

Birthday: March 11 (When the Confederate Constitution was adopted)

Status: Dead, as of May 13, 1865


End file.
